The only way I can keep track of time is when Mia brings me meals. There’s no window in this room, which seems strange if we’re in Miami, but I suppose a window is an escape route, and this is just a glorified prison cell. One with good food and an endless amount of hot water, but a prison cell nonetheless.
From the sandwich I had a few hours ago, I have to assume it’s almost dinnertime, but with nothing but my thoughts to pass the time, it may very well have only been twenty minutes since she slipped from the room with a sad smile.
I haven’t bothered asking why she’s allowed to roam free while I’m locked in here. I suspect it’s because she’s past trying to escape and she’s resigned to the life she thinks she has to lead from here. How long has she been in places like this? She made this seem like it was a fucking palace compared to where she’s been in the past, but how can that be the case when she doesn’t have her freedom?
The door swings open and as if I’ve conjured her with my thoughts, Mia strolls into the room wearing a tight cotton dress that hugs her curves. She’s a little too thin with her ribs visible beneath the restrictive fabric, but I get the sense this is better than whenever she arrived.
“We’re having dinner with the boys tonight,” she announces, and I swear every ounce of blood drains from my face.
“With Ronan and Damon?” I ask quietly, watching as she disappears into the wardrobe I briefly explored when looking for something to wear after my hour-long shower. It’s full of designer outfits, most inappropriate for a day wallowing in my cell, but I managed to find a pair of short flannel pajamas to change into.
She returns a second later with a short floral dress in her hand, one I know for a fact will show off my assets. She’s trying to make sure I’m appealing to Ronan. Does she know if he doesn’t like me, I’ll likely find myself at the bottom of the ocean? Perhaps she’s been given the same options, and she’s trying to shield me from the reality.
“Yes! Like I said, I haven’t seen them much since I got here, but it’s a good sign they want to have dinner with us.”
I nod and take the dress from her outstretched hand. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why do you seem happy to be here when they bought you?” I tug the pajamas from my body and replace them with the dress that fits me like a glove.
She sighs and sits on the edge of the bed. Her hands wind around one another as she fidgets with them. “This is as close to freedom as I’ve come since…well, I guess since ever. I was sold when I was sixteen, too young to have really got to taste what it was to be free, and the next seven years were hell.” Her eyes are haunted by the things she’s seen, and although I’ve only just met her, I move forward and wrap my arms around her. I’m not sure which one of us needs the hug more, but after long seconds, she wraps her arms around my back and for the first time since I woke up, I feel something other than dread.
If this woman who has been to hell and back can find the positives, surely I can as well. Perhaps one day, when my love for Tommy doesn’t feel like a gaping wound, I’ll be able to see this as an opportunity rather than my own personal version of hell.
Mia helps me do my hair, curling it into soft waves until it sits against my back without a strand out of place. She pulls a bag of expensive makeup from beneath the vanity and unsurprisingly, everything is the exact shade I would buy myself. But that does nothing to settle my anxiety.
For them to have a wardrobe full of clothes in exactly my size and makeup in the shade I wear, they had to have been planning for me to come here for a while. How long had they been watching me? Lying in wait before they could take me from my life and throw me into one I never asked for or wanted?
She holds my hand as we walk down the hallway, but all I can focus on is the over-the-top decorating and how much every painting hanging on the wall must have cost. It’s clear the Lombardi family has more money than sense, and I don’t think that’s going to help my case. At least if they were short on money, I had a chance of the Saint James family being able to pay them off to get me back, but something tells me that’s not going to fly. Salvatore has it in his head that his sons are getting married, and I doubt there’s anything that can change his mind.
As soon as we step into the dining room, I stop dead in the doorway. Jesus. It looks like something that belongs in a palace, with a deep-brown oak table with no less than twenty settings and cutlery I’m sure is made of solid gold. A fireplace burns bright at one end of the table, and on the far wall is a window so large I swear it’s the door to another dimension. And for the first time, I realize just how hopeless my situation has become.
Outside the window is a cliff, and below that is the ocean. Not only am I locked in an iron fortress, one of the walls is the unrelenting sea.
“There they are.” A tall man by the window beams.
His smile is wide and kind, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. The eyes of a killer. I’ve stared into Tommy’s enough to know when someone gets off on death, and this man may just be more sinister than the one who holds my heart. His black hair is perfectly styled and his unreal green eyes hold mine as he approaches us. I don’t need an introduction to know this is Ronan, the man I’m supposed to marry.
For the first time since I arrived, Mia looks anxious and not in the way you’re nervous for a first date. No, she knows these men could hurt us, and they probably will because if you want to get technical about this entire situation, they own us. They can do whatever the fuck they want and no one is going to care. Her hands are bundled together in front of her and her shoulders slump forward ever so slightly. I want to reach for her, to give her comfort, but I don’t think that’s what she needs right now.
Another man approaches us from by the fireplace and I drag my eyes away from my new friend for just long enough to look him over. Both men are unbelievably attractive, with perfect jawlines and cheekbones to boot. But Damon Lombardi may just be evil personified. Ice-blue eyes so cold my stomach sinks when I look into them and black hair the same color as his brother’s.
Individually these men look like they could rule the fucking world, but together? Together they look like they’re going to burn the whole fucking thing to the ground.
“You must be Clara,” Ronan says, dragging my attention back to the god of a man in front of me.
He’s so tall I have to crane my neck back to look up at him when he’s within a few feet of me. As if the guy wasn’t intimidating enough, he also has to be a fucking giant?
I nod. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say quietly.
His eyes move over me with keen interest, and I think that’s a good sign. Or maybe a life with a man like this is worse than any death they could thrust upon me.
“Likewise.”
Damon steps forward, his eyes doing the same slow perusal of my body as his brother just did, and my cheeks heat under the scrutiny. Will Mia be mad the man she’s meant to marry is looking at me like I’m his next meal? Or is she so desensitized from the life she’s lived that she doesn’t care?
The two men look at one another, a slow smirk tugging at their lips, and the dread I’ve felt since the moment I woke up here boils to the brink until I’m sure I’m about to throw up. Because no matter what way you look at the situation I’ve found myself in, you don’t want to have men like this look at you the way they’re looking at me right now.
If I thought I was fucked before, that’s nothing compared to how I feel now.
